


Adjustments

by agentz123



Series: Duck Twin Week 2021 [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Astronomy, Dad! Donald Lite, Donald Doesn't Cite His Work, Duck Twin Week, Duck Twin Week (Disney), Duck Twin Week 2021 (Disney), Duck Twins, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, HONORARY NIECE WEBBY, Music, Never - Freeform, Nightmares, Protective Donald Duck, Small Reference to S3's "The First Adventure!", Something Can Stop Della Duck?, THESE DUCKS NEED THERAPY!!!, Takes Place After S2's "Moonvasion!" and Before S3's "Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks!", There's Only Purity on This Account, Trigger Warnings Just to Be Safe, Twin Bond, We Only Want Growth for Her, leave me alone, mentions/references to ptsd, sfw, tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28953171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentz123/pseuds/agentz123
Summary: Della has a secret.Duck Twin Week 2021, Day 2 - Music (Donald) and Day 3 - Tired (Della)
Relationships: Donald Duck & Della Duck
Series: Duck Twin Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094204
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Adjustments

Donald trudged up Killmotor Hill, his burning muscles tingling in excitement at the thought of plopping into his old but reliable hammock. Once his wearied feet reached the top, he decided to pop into the mansion, just as he did every night, no matter what time, to wish the kids a good night and sweet dreams. Sometimes he would refill glasses of water that were kept on the nightstands, or adjust blankets and limbs to ensure his ducklings stayed warm. 

Donald quacked in surprise as he suddenly went tumbling as soon when he swung the front door open. He quickly fell into his fighting stance, prepared to ward off those pesky gem-eating weevil-weasel hybrids again, when he caught sight of his sister cocooned in an old quilt, only her hands exposed to the brisk air of the mansion to hold what appeared to be his work laptop. He dropped his wings, and, half-annoyed, whispered, “Della? What are you doing?” 

As he asked, Donald caught sight of a million Wikipedia tabs, each one detailing some semi-major event within the last decade. The screen was currently featuring that weird Gang-gang Style thing or whatever that Dewey obsessed over for a few weeks. “Oh, just surfing the net. What are you doing?” 

“Surfing the—it’s three in the morning! I just got off of work.” 

“Three?” She whipped her head around and squinted at the corner of the computer screen. “Oh. Wow. I guess you lose the concept of time when you don’t really see the sun for a few years, huh?” 

Donald gave a strained chuckle and reached out to take away the laptop. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.” 

“NO!” Della bellowed, nearly at risk for disturbing all of the mansion’s dozing occupants. Donald immediately snatched his hands away, as if he was causing her immense pain just by being around her. Once Della caught sight of his worried expression, she composed herself. “I mean, I’m fine. I’m not tired.” 

“Sure. That definitely explains why you’ve yawned after every other word.” 

“I’ll have you know yawning helps with stress.” 

“So you admit you’re stressed.” 

“No, Donald! I’m fine. Just…” 

She wasn’t sure why she allowed him to pull her onto her feet and lead her into an empty room. Her room. The one Uncle Scrooge had Mrs. B prepared upon her arrival from the moon. 

The dark, lonely, blood-curdling moon. 

Donald gently placed the beat-up computer on Della’s old desk and went to shut the curtains, a small chill traveling down his spine. “Just what?” 

“I have nightmares, okay?! Really bad ones.” She crossed her arms in defiance, unable to hide the way she trembled in fear of the one thing that was able to stop Della Duck: sleep. She planned out all possible defensive remarks to Donald’s upcoming reaction, whether it be laughter or disgust or scorn, but they all dissipated upon the casual utterance of three little words.

“So do I.”

The fire in her cheeks was immediately extinguished. “Buh?” 

“About the navy,” he elaborated. “A few of my nastier adventures. About the kids...getting hurt.” He swallowed deeply continuing. “But everyone does, Della. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Aw, phooey, it’s hard to remember that they aren’t real, that you actually are safe. But it’s true. You’re okay now.”

She looked at the bed in ~~longing~~ hesitation. There was suddenly movement beside her, and Donald had settled down on the floor, leaned against the frame, and patted the mattress welcomingly. “I’ll be right here. Just in case you need reminding.”

Even though she felt a bit childish, remembering the way she used to crawl into Donald’s bed after a particularly bad dream, she took up his invitation and forced herself to get under the blankets. It’s been awhile, now that she thought about it. And it was soft as it was a decade ago. As cozy, too…

She allowed her eyes to flutter shut for the first time in weeks, and immediately plummeted into the dark celestial sphere. 

But instead of the crushing sensation wrapping around her leg, right below the knee, she felt the tightness around her back. Instead of the choking stench of billowing smoke and a burst of black licorice, she smelled the salt of the sea. Instead of the screech of tearing metal cleaving into her skull, there was a soft, albeit raspy, humming swelling through her ears. 

She forced her eyelids open a slit, and just as she expected, her life still flashed before her eyes. But instead of seeing the hollow realization that she had abandoned all that she ever known for a stupid joyride, she saw her other half comforting her. Apparently she had fallen to sleep? It was all just a dream? And she had woken up screaming?

Della pulled herself away in frustration, the palms of her hands sinking into the sags of her eyes. “I’m tired, Donald,” she whispered. 

“I know. I know. I may have just the thing. Look.” He reached under the bed and pulled out a small acoustic guitar. Its brown paint was severely scratched and chipped, but its strings seemed intact. He hadn’t seen the guitar in eleven years, since the night he took the boys and left; he recalled how he had thrown the thing with the rest of Della’s stuff and swore never to be involved in music ever again. 

That is, until he met an extremely colicky Louie. 

“The boys,” he smiled tiredly. “They preferred to listen to the chords.” He tuned the instrument after blowing out a few gusts of smoke. “It seems only you really liked my singing.”

“ _Like,_ ” she corrected. 

“Right,” Donald grinned. "Like. My sister _likes_ my singing." He started the lullaby.

_"Look to the stars, my darling baby sis.  
Life is strange and vast,  
But you’ll soon find your bliss."_  


She sniffed. “You’re so corny.”

“Alright, I’m making this up on the spot!” 

“It’s technically plagiarizing.” 

He threatened to hit her over the head with the guitar. “This’ll be sure to knock you out, you palooka.” 

Della gently took away the guitar and settled back under the sheets. She prompted her brother to finish the song, accompanied only by her.

_"Face each new sun with eyes clear and true,_  
_Unafraid of the unknown,_  
_Because I’ll face it all with you."_  


She watched her brother absently lay down next to her and hog the pillow. “Donald?”

“Hm.”

“What if I don’t get breakfast because I’m asleep?” Although she hadn’t been sleeping, she refused to miss a meal; how she had taken food for granted! And taking any opportunity that helped her rid of the licorice taste—if only temporary—didn’t hurt either. Not to mention the fact that having planned out meal-times gave her _some_ semblance of a schedule... 

“It’s fine. You’re adjusting,” he mumbled, rolling onto his side. “It takes time.”

Della drifted off to the realization that Donald still slept on his left side, just like always.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear if yall take this as an incest fic I'm going for your kneecaps :)


End file.
